A REASONABLE WORLD

by Damon Knight

  “But answer the question,” the host was heard to say in a voice that was not quite his own. “Is it true that you fart in the bathtub and bite the bubbles as they come up?”

  “Yes,” said Geiger judiciously, “I’d say that’s a fair statement, Jim.”

  A wild-eyed young man scuttled onto the set and spoke in a whisper to the host, then to Geiger. The two stood up, removing their blouse mikes, and walked off the set, followed by raucous laughter and the sound of raspberries. The set remained vacant for the rest of the half-hour, while three voices sang in close harmony a song whose refrain went:

  No balls at all,

  No balls at all,

  A very small pecker and no balls at all.

  Network security was beefed up after that, but CRAP got into the NBC satellite feed in late September and made President Draffy appear to give a rousing speech in favor of cannibalism. Draffy was so furious that he had to be physically restrained before Dr. Grummond could give him an injection to calm him down, and for a week or two there was serious discussion among the staff, in the Cabinet and on Capitol Hill about declaring him incompetent under the Twenty-fifth Amendment.

  Later in the year the dissenters went too far: they began to interfere with commercial messages on network holo. CACA was not involved, or said it wasn’t; a new organization called Les Pendules claimed responsibility. In one attack, a woman’s breasts were shown spilling out of her Virginform bra, elongating more and more until they swayed like snakes and hung to her knees. In another, the cheerful young man who was smoking a Marlboro appeared mildly surprised when his cigarette drooped down like toothpaste slowly emerging from a tube, wrapped itself around his neck and set fire to his beard. “Marlboro—formidable!” he cried, just before the flames engulfed his head.

  In May the French government issued a decree making interference with a commercial broadcast a capital crime. It was a satisfying but empty gesture: the last execution in France had taken place in 2001, and the last executioner had died three years later.

  21

  We’ve been watered and bathed by the skies,

  Blackened and dried in the sun.

  Rooks and ravens have gobbled our eyes,

  And plucked out our hairs, every one.

  As we twist here, we’re figures of fun,

  Blown about by the winds as they run,

  Well chastised for all that we’ve done,

  Man, lest you be one of our number,

  Forswear all the sins you’ve begun;

  Pray God to give you sweet slumber.

  Francois Villon,

  Ballade of the Hanged,

  translated by Arthur Raab

  The murder trial of Ivan Walter Bolt began on October 9, 2007 in District Court, Judge Van Winkle presiding. The courtroom was filled; holo reporters and camerapersons were present in unusual numbers.

  The prosecution introduced the two hikers who had seen Bolt fire the fatal shot, then one of the sheriff’s deputies who had arrested Bolt.

  In cross-questioning, Ross said, “Deputy Manning, when you entered the property of Ivan Bolt on September the seventh, twenty ought six, did you observe that the property was posted against trespassers?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “And did you also observe signs reading, ‘No hunting or trapping’?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Thank you. Now, Deputy Manning, was an inventory made of the articles found on or near the body of Leroy Edward Jameson?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Is this a copy of that inventory?”

  “Yes.”

  “Will you please read item number eight from that inventory?”

  “Item eight. Seven steel traps.”

  “Your Honor, we enter this document as Defense Exhibit One.” He took the inventory from the witness and handed it to the bailiff.

  “Now, Deputy Manning,” he said, “are those the seven steel traps, commonly known as leghold traps, that you see on the table?”

  “I’d have to look at the tags.”

  “Please do so.”

  The deputy got down and examined the tags on the seven traps. “Yes, they are.”

  “Your Honor, we enter the traps as Defense Exhibit Two. We have no further questions of this witness.”

  “Redirect, Mr. Llewellyn?”

  “Thank you, Your Honor. Deputy Manning, to your knowledge, is trapping a legal activity in this county?”

  “Yes, sir, it is.”

  “Thank you.”

  Llewellyn next introduced the county medical examiner, who verified that the cause of Jameson’s death was a single bullet through the heart, and a firearms expert who testified that the bullet had come from Bolt’s rifle. The rifle and the bullet were entered as exhibits. “The prosecution rests, Your Honor.”

  In his turn, Ross introduced a series of character witnesses—Bolt’s pastor, a Boy Scout troop leader, several neighbors. He read into the record favorable reviews of Bolt’s books of nature essays. Llewellyn seemed bored.

  Next Ross introduced Dr. Evan Singler, who identified himself as a veterinarian practicing in Multnomah County.

  Ross picked up one of the traps from the exhibit table. “Dr. Singler, in your practice have you ever had an opportunity to observe injuries inflicted by traps similar to this one?”

  “Yes, I have.”

  “Would you describe those injuries, please?”

  “A trap like this one closes with enough force to break the leg or foot of a small animal such as a cat. If it’s the foot, usually there’s nothing to be done about it, especially if it’s a kitten—the bones are too small to knit.”

  “Will you come down to the table and demonstrate for the jury how this trap actually works, Doctor?”

  “All right. This stake is driven into the ground, or sometimes the chain is attached to a tree. The trap has a powerful spring—you can see that it takes a good deal of pressure to open it as I’m doing now. Once it’s locked in the open position, it can be released by a very slight touch on this plate right here.”

  “Will you demonstrate that with this pencil, Doctor?”

  “Certainly.” Singler took the pencil and touched it cautiously to the plate. The trap leaped off the table and fell back with a clang. Several jurors started.

  “Will you open the trap again, please, and show the jury the pencil?”

  Singler did so. The pencil was broken and splintered.

  “Dr. Singler, can you form any estimate of the pain and agony suffered by an animal caught in a trap like this, sometimes for days at a time?”

  “Objection.”

  “Sustained.”

  “All right. Dr. Singler, have you ever had animals brought to you that have actually gnawed their legs off to escape from a trap like this one?”

  “Objection. Calls for a conclusion.”

  “Sustained.”

  “Dr. Singler, did Ivan Bolt ever bring you an injured animal?”

  “Yes, on several occasions.”

  “What was the date of the last such occasion?”

  “September fifth of last year.”

  “What kind of animal was it, and what was the nature of the injury?”

  “It was a young raccoon, missing the lower part of one leg.”

  “In your professional opinion, what was the cause of that injury?”

  “The leg had been gnawed off.”

  “Dr. Singler, what did Ivan Bolt tell you about the raccoon when he brought it to you?”

  “He said he had found it near a leghold trap on his property. The leg was still in the trap.”

  “Did he have any idea who set that trap?”

  “He said he thought he knew who had done it.”

  “Nothing else? No name?”

  “No, but he said he’d seen a trespasser a few days before.”

  “What was Ivan Bolt’s attitude toward that person?”

  “He was angry.”

  “Thank you, Doctor.”
r />   “Mr. Llewellyn?”

  “Doctor, you say Ivan Bolt was angry. How angry was he? Was he out of control, behaving irrationally?”

  “No, he seemed perfectly controlled.”

  “No further questions.”

  “Mr. Ross, redirect?”

  “No, Your Honor.”

  “The witness is excused. You may step down, Dr. Singler.”

  “Your Honor,” Ross said, “our next witness will be Dr. Dorothy Italiano, who as you know cannot be present. It will take some time to set up the holo link and our demonstration equipment for this witness, and therefore I ask for a half-hour recess.”

  Llewellyn rose. “Your Honor, the prosecution objects to the introduction of this witness. If we are having a recess, perhaps this would be an appropriate time to discuss our objection in chambers.”

  “I think so, Mr. Llewellyn. The court will be in recess until three-thirty-five.”

  Judge Van Winkle’s “chambers” consisted of a single large corner room, decorated with postmodern paintings and plants in ceramic pots. Behind his polished desk, the judge said, “Sit down, gentlemen, and let’s get to it. You first, Mr. Llewellyn.”

  “Your Honor, we know that the defense intends to introduce Dr. Italiano as an expert witness in order to validate the testimony of another witness, not a human being but a so-called McNulty’s symbiont. Since that testimony is obviously inadmissible, there’s no point in qualifying Dr. Italiano.”

  “Mr. Ross?”

  “We intend to call a witness who is a host to a McNulty’s symbiont. We don’t agree that his testimony will be inadmissible.”

  “Your Honor, forgive me, but that’s ridiculous. Dr. Italiano claims to be able to communicate with these invisible parasites through the host, but there is no scientific proof that these communications have any validity whatever—they could be, probably are, fantasy on the part of the human host. If this testimony is admitted, it will set a dangerous precedent. We could put a criminal defendant on the stand, infect him with a parasite, and take testimony from the parasite as to whether or not he committed the crime. That would be the nearest thing to self-incrimination.”

  “The courts would strike that down, Your Honor, but that’s not what we intend here. We intend to show extenuating circumstances, as Mr. Llewellyn is aware, but also we want to address a larger issue. As you know, this is the first capital murder case that has actually come to trial in this state in the last eleven months. Just a week ago, James Hilbert, accused of murdering his wife, was found dead in his cell the morning after arrest—”

  “I’m aware of that, Mr. Ross.”

  “Yes, Your Honor, and in other cases the accused didn’t even get as far as being apprehended. In seven murder cases that we know about, the perpetrator dropped dead at the scene or shortly thereafter, and in four more, after menacing someone with a weapon, they dropped dead before they could pull the trigger. This has profound implications for the criminal justice system. For the good of the public, this testimony must be admitted.”

  “Are you appearing as a friend of the court, Mr. Ross?” the judge asked drily.

  “No, Your Honor, I’m defending my client, but there are larger issues that should be addressed.”

  The judge rocked back and forth gently in his chair. “I think I see the thrust of your argument, Mr. Ross. Are you suggesting that our murderers are being killed by the parasites, or symbionts, who can read their minds and therefore know they’re guilty?”

  “Yes, Your Honor, and that will appear in the testimony.”

  “Then are you further suggesting that if the parasites didn’t kill your client, he must be innocent?”

  “No, Your Honor, that would be to turn over the whole justice system to the symbionts, and that would be intolerable. Just because my client is still alive, we have an opportunity to determine guilt or innocence for ourselves, and that’s very important.”

  “I’ll admit Dr. Italiano as an expert witness,” the judge said. “Mr. Llewellyn, you’ll have an opportunity to object again to the next witness.”

  “I certainly intend to, Your Honor.”

  When the jurors filed in again, they saw that two holophones and a large screen had been set up in the front of the courtroom. Another phone was on the judge’s bench, and the bailiff had a fourth.

  “Call your next witness, Mr. Ross,” the judge said.

  “Thank you, Your Honor. The defense calls Dr. Dorothy Italiano. Because Dr. Italiano is a resident scientist aboard Sea Venture, now in the Pacific five hundred miles from land, the court has consented to allow her to testify by holophone, and she is standing by.”

  He approached one of the phones on its pedestal. “Dr. Italiano?”

  In one half of the split screen the face of a dark-haired woman appeared; in the other the jurors could see the bailiff, greatly magnified. When she had sworn the witness, the bailiff retired; Ross appeared on the screen.

  “Dr. Italiano, what is your profession?” he asked.

  “I’m a hypnotherapist.”

  “A hypnotherapist. What does that mean, exactly?”

  “I use hypnotic suggestion to alleviate certain symptoms, or to help people avoid certain behaviors—to quit smoking, for example.”

  “I see. And does a person have to have a medical degree to practice this profession?”

  “No. I’m not a medical doctor, I have a Ph.D. in psychology.”

  “And what is your current employment, Doctor?”

  “I’m employed by the Emergency Civil Control Administration aboard Sea Venture, where I specialize in communicating with McNulty’s symbionts.”

  Ross picked up a device from the table. “Is this the apparatus you use in these experiments?”

  “Yes.”

  “Will you explain to the jury how it works?”

  “Yes. It’s a skin potentiometer, that is, it measures the electrical potential of a person’s skin, usually the palms, where electric potential varies with changes in perspiration. Although the symbiont is unable to communicate directly, it can signal by means of these potential changes, which are too small even to be noticed by the host.”

  “By the host you mean the human being who is infected by the symbiont?”

  “Yes.”

  “All right. Now, as I understand it, Doctor, these changes in skin potential give you a sort of on–off signal, or a yes–no. But you can obtain precise information from the symbiont by using an alphabet chart similar to the one we have here in the courtroom?”

  A second holoscreen lit up, displaying a chart on which the letters of the alphabet, the numbers from 0 to 9, and the words YES, NO, and END appeared.

  “That’s right, and we use a computer program that advances the cursor across the chart, registers the incoming signals, and displays the sentence to the operator as it forms.”

  “In fact, it is true, is it not, that this is your own apparatus, lent to us for the purpose of this trial?”

  “Yes.”

  “All right. Now, have you ever received communications in this way on matters which the host could not have known about?”

  “Yes, many times.”

  “How do you explain that?”

  “Objection, speculative.”

  The judge’s face appeared in the screen, replacing that of the defense attorney. “I’ll allow it,” he said. “The witness may answer.”

  “The symbiont has been in other hosts, and it remembers,” Italiano said. “Also, it appears that the symbionts can communicate with each other when more than one of them is present in the same host, and they exchange information that way.”

  “And after these communications, have you subsequently found that the information given you by the symbionts was true and accurate?”

  “Yes, in every case where we could check it.”

  “No further questions.”

  Llewellyn rose and went to the holophone. “Dr. Italiano, you’ve told us that this interesting device registers changes in
the skin potential of the palms. Does that mean it’s similar to a lie detector?”

  “To a certain extent.”

  “Because they both register changes in skin potential?”

  “Yes.”

  “And are you aware that evidence obtained by the use of a lie detector is inadmissible in court?”

  “Objection,” said Ross. “The witness is not a legal expert.”

  “I’ll withdraw the question, Your Honor. Now, Dr. Italiano, in the course of your long professional career, have you ever published scientific or technical papers?”

  “Yes.”

  “About how many, if you can tell us?”

  “Nine.”

  “And what were the subjects of these papers?”

  “Three or four were about various aspects of hypnosis or hypnotherapy.”

  “Did you ever write a paper about the ouija board?”

  “Yes.”

  “Ever write a paper about the Tarot cards?”

  “Yes.” There was a rustle of amusement in the courtroom.

  “Ever write a paper about crystal-gazing?” Laughter, the judge tapped his gavel and frowned.

  “No.”

  “Well, that’s something, anyway. Dr. Italiano, did you ever write a paper about Chinese fortune-telling?”

  “Well, not exactly. I wrote a paper about the I Ching.”

  “I see. And will you tell the jury what the I Ching is?”

  “It’s an ancient Chinese system of divination.”

  “And what is divination, as you understand it, Dr. Italiano?”

  “It’s a system of revealing something about a situation that a person may be involved in.”

  “Does it reveal something about the future of that situation?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “All right. Tell me, does the I Ching work, Doctor?”

  “In my experience, it works surprisingly well.”

  “But you wouldn’t call that fortune-telling?”

  “No, not exactly.”

  “I’m afraid the distinction is too fine for me to grasp,” said Llewellyn. There was a ripple of laughter. “No further questions.”

  “Redirect?” the judge asked.